The Problem of Pyjamas
by Ice And Starlight
Summary: It's time to go to bed, but Yuri can't find his pyjamas... Wolfram/Yuri, slash. now updated!
1. Chapter 1

**The Problem of Pyjamas,**

**or**

**Why Employing Three Cackling Maids Is A Bad Idea**

"Wolfram?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you seen my pyjamas anywhere? I can't seem to find them."

"Sorry, wimp." The fire mazoku rolled over on the bed and stretched luxuriously. "Haven't seen them anywhere."

"Don't call me that!"

_["Ha! I told, you, Lasagne!" The maid cackled triumphantly, pointing in manic glee at a set of dark blue pyjamas that Yuri would find hauntingly familiar. "I told you he wore blue pyjamas!"_

"_Okay, okay," Doria rolled her eyes and reached for her purse, "you don't have to rub it in. How much do I owe you?"_

"_Two shares, I think you'll find, m'dear. Thank you."_

_Sangria looked up at her fellow conspirators from her calculations, a worried frown creasing her forehead. "Uh , guys... should we put those back, do you think?"_

"_Nah. Lord von Krist'll pay big money for these babies."_

"_But... but what's his majesty going to sleep in?"_

"_Oh, please, Sangria. Do you really think that the_ king_ doesn't have spare pyjamas?"]_

"But those were my last pair! People keep taking them away to be washed, and they never come back! I think Gunter's stealing them to put in his stupid shrine, which, _ew_. Those were my last ones!"

"We-ell..." Oh, crap. Yuri could hear the grin in his evil, evil fiancés voice without even looking at him. "...then you'll just have to wear some of _my_ pyjamas, then, won't you?"

"But you... don't ... wear... pyjamas... " Belatedly, his mind stuttered to the horrible, ghastly, inevitable conclusion. "HOLY CRAP, NO!"

"Oh, come on, Yuri!" Suddenly, Wolfram was right in front of him, a grin adorning his face that was surely far too predatory for a blonde bishounen in a nightgown. "What kind of a wimp are you that you can't even do this?"

"I'm not a wimp!"

"Well then, you should have no problem with this, then, should you?" Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Unless that is, you want to do the alternative and sleep next to me... all night... naked..."

Yuri glowered at him. "You are so lucky I'm too tired to go Maou on you, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, wimp. Now, hurry up and get changed, I want to go to sleep."

"I'm not a wimp!"

/

_Would it make it any better if I thought of it as light red? _Yuri sighted down his pink-clad arm and sighed. _Probably not_. He shrugged the stupid thing back onto his shoulder – the stupid thing, being designed to fit Wolfram's soldierly frame, was just a little too big. _It smells like Wolfram... no! No, no, no! You are not, I repeat, not, standing around sniffing your fiancés nightwear! Very, very wrong, Shibuya!_

"Yuri, are you done?"

"Yeah... Jeez, Wolf, I don't know how you sleep in one of these." Yuri stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting the neckline of the gown – the robe – oh, sod it, the pink, frilly, girly, lacy, ribbon- and bow- festooned nightdress. It kept slipping down over his shoulder, exposing his shoulder to all and sundry. _Does your fiancé count as all and sundry?_

"Nng..."

"Wolf? Are you all right?

There was no response. "Wolfram?"

Wolfram stared at him, his mouth hanging open slightly, with a strange, glazed, vacant expression on his face. Yuri waved a hand in front of his unresponsive fiancé.

"Hel-lo? Wolfram? Oh, crap..." He hitched the nightdress up to a more respectable neckline. "Are you okay in there? You can stop staring now. Seriously. It's kind of creepy."

"Gnk..." Wolfram shook his head dazedly, like a dog shaking water out of its ears. A deep blush spread rapidly over his face. "Uh... yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine. Umm, I'mgoingtobednow, goodnightYurisweetdreams!" He practically sprinted across the room and took a running dive onto the bed, landing spread-eagled on top of the blankets. They blurred, and suddenly all that could be seen of Wolfram was a mop of golden hair and a foot sticking out of a four-foot high ball of bedding.

Yuri blinked.

"Uh... sure. Sweet dreams to you too, Wolf." He gingerly climbed into bed and attempted to extricate a single blanket from the heap, only to snatch his hand away when he was greeted with a feral snarl. "Okay, okay. Blankets belong to Wolfram, I get it. Jeez." He lay back with a sigh. As he drifted off to sleep, the last thing he remembered thinking was wondering what in the world could have gotten into Wolfram...

/

As soon as Wolfram was sure that the wimp was asleep, he allowed himself one small moan. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of a blanket. _Not fair, not fair, so not fair! How can he be such a stupid wimp and still be so... gaah! I am not Gwendal! I am not Gwendal! I do not think Yuri is cute! I repeat, I do not! I may happen to be engaged to him, but I do not, repeat, not, think he is cute or kya-worthy in any way whatsoever! OR Yuri-in-a-nightgown, either!_

Outside the window, a cricket chirped. If there was tumbleweed in the Great Demon Kingdom, and the maids had been so remiss as to allow it into the presence of the king, a ball of it would have rolled across the floor.

_Oh, sod it. I will not jump on my fiancé, I will not jump on my fiancé, I will not jump on my fiancé. Such behaviour is highly inappropriate in a demon prince, and he'd probably try to punch me again._

"Wolf?"Yuri's voice was thick with sleep. "Are you okay? You're tossing 'n turning an awful lot..."

"I'm fine." Wolfram cursed his voice, which appeared to have a mind of its own and had, for no apparent reason, chosen that moment to jump up four octaves. He coughed and tried again. "I'm fine. I'm just not very sleepy." Ah, much better.

"Oh. You want me to get you some hot chocolate? It always helps me sleep. And it's good for a sore throat, too."

Dammit. "No, don't worry. Go back to sleep, Yuri. I'll just count Bad Omen birds in my head or something."

That earned him a sleepy chuckle. "'Kay, then. Night, Wolf."

"Night, Yuri..." Too late. The double-black was already fast asleep again, and snoring gently.

A few minutes later, Wolfram's personal space was invaded by an arm. It snaked around his waist, and on closer inspection, appeared to be firmly attached to a snoring, fast-asleep, nightgown-clad demon king.

Wolfram lay in the dark, considering. He counted to ten under his breath. He paused, and after further reflection, counted to fifty.

_I will not jump my fiancé. I will not jump my fiancé. I will _not_ jump my fiancé._

It was going to be a very long night.

Linebreak

**A/N – Aww... poor Wolf. *snickers* Okay, I might turn this into something longer, or it might get turned into part of this long fic I'm working on, but I don't know, it all depends on the REVIEWS. *stares pointedly at button* Hint, hint. Anyway, Thankies for reading, and I don't own KKM. Nor do I own Wolfram von Bielefelt, although if my plan with the gag and the grappling hook and the getaway vehicle works out, that might all be about to change. Mua-hah-hah...**

**A/N 2 – Guys, thank you so much for all the reviews and faves – I'm so glad you liked this, and I'm happy to say that after, yeah, a very long while, I actually did write some more to this, and now we have two chapters! The third part (I'm planning to have four in total) should be up soonish, depending on how my exams go. Thanks again for reading, and feedback is always appreciated! Xxx – 8/1/2011 **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Yuri awoke slowly, from the best sleep he'd had in ages, to a rather strange sight.

"And one, two, _three_..." A small grunt, as if of slight but habitual exertion. "One, two, _three_..." A quiet voice, mantra-like, going through a well-accustomed routine. "And again..."

"Wolf?"

"One second... two, three, lunge..."

"Wolf..."

"Yes?" A sigh of exasperation, a _shnk _of metal on metal.

"Wolf, it's... very early in the morning..."

"Ye-es..."

"You're up... and dressed... in your full uniform..."

"Ye-es?"

"And you're doing your sword drill. Indoors. In the dark."

"Yes, Yuri, I am." This said in a voice of total, utter exasperation, with overtones of _And...my-reasoning-is-not-totally-obvious-because...why? _

"Uh... why?"

"Because I couldn't _sleep_," Wolfram snapped, unsheathing his sword again and taking up a new position. "And because _I_, unlike some useless wimps around here, actually have an interest in improving my skills." He lunged fiercely, imagining that he was lunging at a fierce and terrible enemy, rather than an inoffensive patch of air just in front of the curtains. "Although, I suppose, at leastI actually have some to improve in the first place..."

"Hey! What did I do?" Yuri protested, half sitting up among the tangled blankets.

"Nothing," Wolfram said, tersely. _Exist. "_Go back to sleep."

"No."

Wolfram gritted his teeth and speared another vicious, incorporeal opponent through the stomach. "Why not?"

"Because I won't be able to sleep either. You're making too much noise." This said, Yuri sat up fully among the rumpled sheets – nightgown slipping down off his shoulder yet again because every single particle of the infinite universe and all its wonders_ hated Wolfram von Bielefelt with the passion of a thousand fiery suns_ - and stared at Wolfram intently. Wolfram pointedly ignored him, and slashed fiercely at yet another invisible enemy, conscious all the time of a pair of black eyes focused unsettlingly on him.

"Yuri, will you stop staring at me? It's creepy and it's putting me off."

"Sorry," he said. He didn't stop staring.

"_What?_" Wolfram snapped, seriously irritated. "Do I have something on my face? What's the problem?"

Silence for a second, then - "No problem," Yuri said, smiling, and hopped out of bed, finally (ohthankgod_finally)_ gathering the folds of material up to cover – er. Yes.

Wolfram really had to sort out this pyjama situation. Things were getting ridiculous.

/

By that evening, matters had not improved. After the dismal failure of the morning's sword drill as a distraction from the memory of Yuri's silk-clad skin, Wolfram had given it up in disgust, ordered his horse saddled and rode out of the castle in a cloud of dust and bad temper.

After only half an hour's hard ride, though, he slowed his horse to a slow trot, then a walk – there was no point in hurrying, since the point of the exercise was to stay away from the castle – and his damned fiancé – for as long as possible.

It was so _unfair_, though. On the one hand, there was Yuri, prize idiot, all-round useless wimp, stealer of thrones, instigator of unwanted engagements, attempted wriggler-outer of said engagements, unfaithful and uninterested fiancé, generally awful horseman and an essentially useless human being. On the other hand, there was the Yuri who sometimes showed himself to be, well. Passable. In a manner of speaking. Not, like, heroic or anything. But. You know. Not a complete waste of space. But how was it possible that both of them could be the same person? And why did that person have to look so bloody good in a pink nightgown?

Wolfram sighed. Pining for an unrequited love was so overrated.

/

The woods around the castle, although certainly very picturesque from the castle windows, turned out to be, well. Rather less than exciting. Having left the castle in such a tearing hurry, Wolfram had somehow taken the wrong turning, and by the time the sun started to sink in the sky, he was, well. Not _lost_, per se, since he could see the castle if he climbed a tree and squinted. But it was certainly a long way away, and he'd managed to forget his cloak and as a result was bloody freezing. Also a trifle damp, in the aftermath of a short cloudburst earlier in the afternoon.

It was at this auspicious point in the afternoon's proceedings that Wolfram fell off his horse.

As he would later explain to a crowd of semi-sympathetic relations and amused onlookers, it wasn't a _fall_, exactly. It was all the horse's fault, anyway, and what business did the stablemaster have sending him out on a horse that was _clearly_ badly-trained and unsuitable for the fiancé of the King of the Great Demon Kingdom? And as for the –

_Wolfram,_ Gwendal would snap. _Get on with it._

- it was a squirrel. The stupid horse shied when a squirrel ran across the path, and he hadn't been concentrating and he fell off the horse.

Staring up at the dripping canopy, Wolfram was too stunned to say anything.

"Ow," he said, blankly.

Or, well, not quite.

He went to roll over onto his side -

"Oh, _hell_," he moaned, as a sharp pain shot through his ankle. That would just be too much. But no, sure enough – it was definitely twisted, at the very least. If he was lucky. If not, sprained – maybe even broken, and that'd put him out of commission for _weeks –_

"_Yuri_," he growled to the damp, empty clearing, "I'm going to _kill_ you."

/

**A/N – So, I did eventually write some more to this! Sorry about the wait, guys . The third and fourth parts should be finished and posted... soonish? I'll try my best! Thanks again for all the wonderful feedback, and more is always appreciated XD xxx – 8/1/2011**


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